PROCASTINATE

It’s time to tidy the garden, that’s a very good idea,

Or do a spot of D.I.Y, it is that time of year,

I could cook up some tasty food or just make a cup of tea,

But I really can’t be arsed, and I badly need a wee,

I could paint a masterpiece, make Van Gogh turn in his grave,

Or swim with a great white, now that really would be brave,

Go on a long safari, see giraffes and elephants,

But I’ll probably just sit here for now in vest and underpants,

Perhaps I’ll find inspiration, write that classic book,

With a great last page ending, leaving you on tenterhooks,

Be an internet sensation and influence the masses,

But I’ll put my feet up for awhile, and wait until it passes,

I might go run a marathon, in two hours give or take,

Or try my hand at stocks and shares, oh the money I would make,

Maybe go to work for a hot shot firm, climb the business ladder,

But I’ll likely just sit here with this ever expanding bladder,

Oh yes I’m the great procrastinator, procastinating in a world of my own,

Just sat here not doing much, writing this poem on my phone,

I’m thinking of leaping up, knock the door right off its hinge,

The problem is I’m halfway through another Netflix binge,

I’m lackadaisical, I’m idle and I’m lazy,

My ‘up and at em’ days are now so very hazy

I need some ‘get up and go’, please may can I borrow?

But not today, no thanks, no way, but I might just start tomorrow…